


Hajime, Iwaizumi Hajime

by dgalerab



Series: Oikawa and Iwaizumi's Grand Adventures [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crossdressing, Damsel In Distress Kink, Insufficient Mockery of Heterosexist Tropes, James Bond References, M/M, More Bad James Bond Innuendos Than One Fic Should Have, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Though There Is Mockery To Be Had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:26:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8837563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dgalerab/pseuds/dgalerab
Summary: Why Oikawa thinks that making Iwaizumi admit his embarrassing kinks is good way to repay him for indulging Oikawa's weird kinks, Iwaizumi will never know.(AKA, the sequel to Abduct Me, Iwa-chan, which really should tell you all you need to know about where to set your expectations for this fic)(AKA, look, the fic that should have never been is now a series)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry for all of this.
> 
> There will be other sequels.
> 
> Why.

“How come Iwa-chan doesn’t tell me his embarrassing kinks?” Oikawa whines one day.

“Because I’m not a weirdo who wants to be abducted by aliens, stupid,” Iwaizumi grumbles.

Oikawa leans back onto the couch so that his head is on Iwaizumi’s stomach. “We all have at least one weird kink,” he continues, in that obnoxious voice that Iwaizumi hates. More importantly, the fact that he said _at least one_ when Iwaizumi knows that _at least one_ of those (possibly multiple) kinks is alien abduction has Iwaizumi deeply concerned.

“You know my kinks, Spoiledkawa,” Iwaizumi says.

It’s not his fault his kinks aren’t anything to write home about. He likes pulling Oikawa’s hair and he likes holding him down as he comes. Maybe, occasionally, he likes the quiver of Oikawa’s bottom lip when he gets desperate. Nice and simple. It’s not like having sex with _Oikawa Tooru_ needs to be made any more exciting. The guy is a walking wet dream.

Not that he’ll ever tell Oikawa that.

“Come on,” Oikawa says. “At least a roleplay idea or something.”

Iwaizumi sighs. He’s not going to escape.

He wonders if Oikawa genuinely believes he’s doing this to pay Iwaizumi back for their last kinky adventure or if this is just one more in a long, long line of Oikawa’s attempts to make Iwaizumi’s life hell.

A delightful hell, but hell nonetheless.

“I can’t think of anything,” he says.

He tries, though, because fuck if Oikawa doesn’t have him wrapped around his little finger. He’s not even sure what counts as kinky. He likes rough sex, sure, but he always finds himself gasping and mouthing at Oikawa like he’s something precious, even when he’s trying his best to wreck him for days.

Iwaizumi is a sap, to be honest, and Oikawa knows it, and he shouldn’t be tormenting him like this.

But Oikawa looks at him with that innocent look, and it doesn’t seem to matter that Iwaizumi knows it’s fake, because he’s falling all over himself to brainstorm anyway.

“I hate you,” he murmurs, but Oikawa just smiles like he knows that Iwaizumi means _I hate how obvious it is that I’d do anything for you_.

Iwaizumi goes through the list of kinks that he’s seen often. Toys? Well, he can’t say he _would_ want to use a vibrator on Oikawa, but sooner or later Oikawa’s going to use that vibrator on _him_ and Iwaizumi isn’t quite ready for that. Besides, is that weird? Maybe lingerie? That would be new, and that would be… _kind_ of weird? Right?

It’s not really the kind of embarrassing admission that Oikawa’s hoping for, Iwaizumi suspects. But now he can’t help but imagine Oikawa spread out in a bathrobe and lingerie, looking like the seductress in a spy movie, and…

Iwaizumi groans. He knows what he has to say, and he knows he’s going to hate saying it as much as Oikawa will be _overjoyed_ to hear it.

He mutters it into his hand, but that only lures Oikawa closer, crawling up onto the sofa and looming over Iwaizumi like some kind of massive jaguar on the prowl. “What was that, Iwa-chan?” he purrs.

“No,” Iwaizumi manages. “Nu-uh, I don’t want to tell you.”

“Iiiiwaaa-chaaaan,” Oikawa wails.

Iwaizumi covers his eyes like that’ll help. “I think… I’ve got… like… like a damsel in distress kink?” he croaks.

Oikawa bursts out laughing, but he also dips down to kiss Iwaizumi’s cheek. “Aw, Iwa-chan, that’s sweet,” he says. “Do you want me to act like I need you to rescue me?”

 “Y-yeah,” Iwaizumi says. He hasn’t moved his hands at all. “But also… could you do it in a dress?”

Oikawa snorts, loud. “Iwa-chan, what a sexist kink for someone who’s never been into women at all.”

“Sh-shut up,” Iwaizumi manages. “It’s just… I watched a lot of that kind of movies as a kid and… and I got used to it, alright?”

“Like King Kong?” Oikawa says jovially.

Iwaizumi rips his hands from his eyes to glare at Oikawa, who smirks back. “Like James Bond, you asshole.”

“But you and King Kong have so much in com-ack!” He shrieks as Iwaizumi rolls them off the sofa to tackle Oikawa on the ground and tickle him until he’s begging for mercy.

-X-

Oikawa plans out a day for it, so that he’s sure Iwaizumi will be home when he plans it, but everything else he’s planning is kept under lock and key. Iwaizumi doesn’t even notice him slipping out to buy a dress or anything.

The more Iwaizumi thinks about it, the more he worries. It’ll probably be ridiculous to act out something so plot-based. What if Oikawa looks weird in a dress? Well, of course, he’ll look good, he always looks good, but it’ll probably bunch up in weird places if it’s not tailored for a man and it’ll look awkward and cheesy.

The whole thing feels awkward and cheesy now that Iwaizumi thinks about it, and he feels decidedly silly when he comes home that day to find a tuxedo hanging on the bathroom door. But he changes, because Oikawa went through the effort of planning this. He even tries to get his hair a little flatter than usual, though it doesn’t help much.

The tuxedo fits just right, though, and Iwaizumi thinks he looks pretty good in it. Maybe not as ethereally beautiful as Oikawa, but kind of dashing. Even if it is cheesy.

He cracks open the bedroom door and stops short.

After more than twenty years of friendship, Iwaizumi is still underestimating Oikawa, and he’s not sure how.

First of all, Oikawa doesn’t look cheesy in a dress at all. It’s not one of those sleeveless ball gowns like Iwaizumi was imagining. Instead it’s a stretchier, shimmery material that comes up over Oikawa’s collar, leaves his shoulders open, then slides over his arms, which are behind his back.

The skirt part of it has a long slit down the side, so that part of it pours over Oikawa’s long legs and the other leaves his elegant tights out in the open. He’s even wearing a pair of heels that make the leg that Oikawa has pulled up to his chest look amazing, and Iwaizumi wouldn’t mind seeing him walk on those things. His calves probably look incredible in them.

He has himself propped against the bed, his head falling back so his hair spills over the sheets. The lighting is perfect, accenting every curve of Oikawa’s body, which is positioned so he looks vulnerable and seductive all at once, and so that his eyes look like molten amber. He’s even wearing makeup. It’s soft, subtle, except for the lipstick, which is cherry red and makes Iwaizumi want to bite those plush lips.

He looks at Iwaizumi with an adoring and hot gaze. “Iwaizumi-san,” he breathes, like Iwaizumi has stolen his breath away, instead of the other way around. “I knew you’d come to save me.”

“Um,” Iwaizumi says, and for a moment he feels like he’s splashed paint all over a masterpiece his boyfriend has created like a bumbling idiot. James Bond never said _um_ in front of a beautiful woman, or in this case, man. What _would_ Bond say, in this moment?

Oikawa waits expectantly, without dropping character at all, and Iwaizumi is suddenly emboldened. This is for _him_. Oikawa put in the effort and thought for _him_. Whatever he chooses to do now, it’s all for him. He kneels down, sliding his fingers up Oikawa’s neck sensually to cup his jaw in his hand. “Of course I did,” he whispers, his voice gruff. “I couldn’t leave you behind, darling.”

Oikawa’s eyes go even softer and he tilts his head with a dainty little gasp. He’s overdoing it, just a little, but it’s so hot that Iwaizumi doesn’t care. “Careful,” Oikawa whispers. “There’s a bomb.”

Iwaizumi nearly smiles at that, because of course Oikawa put together a sexy roleplay and still thought about the plot details. After all, what kind of Bond villain would leave the Bond girl for Bond to find, without creating some kind of trap?

Actually, now that Iwaizumi thinks about it, maybe he wouldn’t mind Oikawa playing the Bond villain either. And then Iwaizumi could be the one tied up.

“Don’t you worry, darling,” Iwaizumi murmurs, tilting Oikawa forward.

His hands are bound behind his back, probably using some kind of elaborate technique that allowed Oikawa to tie them himself. The last loop of the tie is slipped through a string of ribbon that’s wrapped around a “bomb” made of Legos, which is so painfully endearing that Iwaizumi nearly laughs out loud.

He undoes the ribbons and tilts Oikawa forward so he can free his arms, then scoops him into his arms, sitting both of them down on the bed.

“How can I ever repay you?”Oikawa breathes, his hand sliding up Iwaizumi’s cheek suggestively.

“How about a kiss?” Iwaizumi whispers.

“Oh, Iwaizumi-san,” Oikawa replies, his breath hot on Iwaizumi’s lips. “You can have so much more than that.”

He kisses Iwaizumi hard, the taste of his lips as cherry as the color. Iwaizumi clutches him closer and hauls him into his lap. It takes a little more maneuvering than usual with the skirt, but soon he has Oikawa’s hard cock pressed against his. Oikawa pulls away with a gasp, curving his back and exposing his neck.

“Oh,” he cries, sounding fragile and overwhelmed. “Iwaizumi-san. No one’s ever touched me like this before.”

“Sssh,” Iwaizumi breathes into his neck, dragging a quivering gasp from Oikawa. “Let me take care of you, my dear.”

He rolls Oikawa onto the bed. He slips off Oikawa’s shoes and lets them fall to the floor, then slides up his skirt to peel off his tights, inch by inch, mouthing at his legs as he goes. Oikawa gives a few pointedly scandalized gasps, but his hips are rolling into the air and the act is starting to collapse into whines.

He tugs the tights from Oikawa’s toes and shimmies back up. Oikawa’s legs are smooth and hairless, and at the top of them he’s wearing a pair of silky, baby blue panties.

Iwaizumi’s breath hitches, and he tags a moment to rub his hand over the front of them. They’re so soft and Oikawa’s cock looks so good straining against them. Oikawa whimpers and pushes up into his hand, startling Iwaizumi out of his reverie.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry.”

“No,” Oikawa croaks, bending down instead to undo Iwaizumi’s pants. “Let me do this for you, Iwaizumi-san. After all, you saved my life.”

He pulls Iwaizumi’s cock out and shoves him back onto the bed with little effort. He pauses for a moment to procure some lube with which to slick Iwaizumi’s cock up, and then, without further ado, kneels over him, guiding Iwaizumi’s dick with one hand and pulling aside his panties with the other, and slides straight down. Clearly he prepared himself earlier.

“Shit,” Iwaizumi whispers.

Oikawa pumps his hips slowly, working himself up and down so that he can take all of Iwaizumi. His breath is hitching wildly, his cock twitching under his skirt. “Oh,” he warbles. “So _big_ , Iwaizumi-san.” He shifts a little and whimpers, his hands tightening in Iwaizumi’s jacket.

Iwaizumi’s dick twitches, and Oikawa gasps gently, jerking a little, his head tilting back and his eyes screwing shut.

“Oh, Iwaizumi-san…” he moans. “So brave… and strong… and so _hot_ inside me.”

“Shit,” Iwaizumi says, his hands tight around Oikawa’s hips.

“I’m all yours tonight, Iwaizumi-san,” Oikawa murmurs, shifting his hips into motion. “After all, I owe you so much.” He pulls himself up and then nearly falls over, and he breaks character for a moment to laugh. Given Oikawa’s bad knee, this is not a position they’ve really done before  – when Oikawa wants to take the lead, he usually just tops, or makes his demands loudly enough that Iwaizumi has to do exactly what he wants or risk being annoyed to death.

Even those are a little on the rarer side for them. Oikawa likes to let go during sex, and Iwaizumi likes to take the chance to take care of this stupid, self-destructive boyfriend.

But as Oikawa readjusts to balance himself, grinning at Iwaizumi sheepishly for a split second over his momentary clumsiness before returning to the act, Iwaizumi can’t say he minds this either. Oikawa leans back a little, arranging himself so that his knees are pressed against Iwaizumi’s sides and his feet are facing out, and his arms are pressed together in a way that makes him look bashful and helpless.

It’s _ridiculous_ , but Oikawa brings a sort of raw sexuality to it. He tilts his head a little, looking guileless somehow, though that’s probably one of the last words Iwaizumi would use to describe Oikawa, and rolls his hips again. This time he manages it more gracefully, pushing back and gasping.

“So good, Iwaizumi-san,” he murmurs, his eyes lighting up with a hunger that doesn’t fit is trembling persona.

He pushes himself up, nearly off of Iwaizumi’s cock, and then all the way down. Iwaizumi gasps, thumbs digging into Oikawa’s hips hard. Oikawa shudders, then does it again, and again, until he manages to get a sense of balance and he can speed up.

He repositions himself slightly and then starts thrusting his hips in earnest. The warm slide along his cock and the perfectly illuminated image of Oikawa above him, fucking himself on Iwaizumi’s cock as his own building pleasure blooms on his face and pries his mouth open for a series of breathless gasps has Iwaizumi dizzy with pleasure.

“Oh, gods, Oikawa,” he whispers. “Gods, you’re so beautiful like this.”

Oikawa moans, hips stuttering. “Touch me, Iwaizumi-san, please,” he whispers, though he’s too close to keep displaying himself like he’s a doll in a museum.

Iwaizumi scrambles to do so, though the hot liquid pooling in the bottom of his stomach is making it hard to keep his strokes on Oikawa’s cock even.

Oikawa is too far gone to care, though, because he curves into Iwaizumi’s hand, hips alternating between thrusting back onto Iwaizumi’s cock and into Iwaizumi’s hand. Iwaizumi isn’t faring much better either. He tries to thumb at the head of Oikawa’s cock, but the way Oikawa’s body squeezes him is getting him too worked up to focus.

Oikawa throws his head back, and Iwaizumi is blown away by how his long neck _looks_ in that dress…

Thankfully, Oikawa comes first, spilling hot over Iwaizumi’s shirt (he’ll have to scrub the cum out of it… he can only hope it’s not a rental) because Iwaizumi has to let go of Oikawa’s cock when his orgasm pours over him, clutching instead at Oikawa’s back as he rides out the crest by fucking wildly into his boyfriend’s spent body.

Iwaizumi takes a few long breaths to come down from his high. Oikawa is gasping still when he does, but he grins down at Iwaizumi. “Good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi breathes, then grins. “But your school girl act got a little ridiculous there every so often.”

“Well,” Oikawa says, pulling off of his cock with a grimace. “The premise is kind of ridiculous, so that’s not really my fault, is it?”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you in this thing again, though,” Iwaizumi says, running his hands up Oikawa’s sides. The dress is soft and silky. “Though, uh… if you’re gonna take charge anyway, maybe next time I can be tied up, and you could be… like… a bond villain?”

Oikawa blinks down at him, then bursts out laughing. “Iwa-chan, that’s not nice! Forcing your loving, beautiful boyfriend to be the villain…”

“Oh please,” Iwaizumi says with an even wider grin. “You’d make an excellent villain.”

“I’ll do it if you let me go over the top,” Oikawa says. “I want to do a manic laugh and everything.”

“And monologue. You have to monologue,” Iwaizumi laughs.

“Of _course_ , I’m going to monologue, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sniggers. “Though, once I’ve tied you up and told you my evil plan and had my evil way with you, will you break free and teach me a lesson?”

Iwaizumi rolls him over and leans over him, rubbing his nose against Oikawa’s. “Of course,” he says. “After all, I am a super spy. You won’t be able to keep me for long.”

Oikawa bursts into a giggles. “Iwa… Iwa… gods, I just thought…” He raises his hands as if presenting a title. “James Bond: The…” He nearly doubles over with laughter. “The… gods… The Quantum Spanking.”

Iwaizumi isn’t sure if he’s laughing about the visual or just because Oikawa is laughing so hard, but he can’t stop. “N-no mister Bond… I e-expect you… to show m-me what a _bad_ b-boy I’ve been…” he laughs, drawing an ugly snort from Oikawa, who has to roll over and hide his face in the pillows as he struggles to breathe. Iwaizumi might be crying from laughter.

“G-goldfingering…” Oikawa whispers, his face red when he reemerges.

“Thunderballs,” Iwaizumi manages.

“On Her Majesty’s… _Secret_ Service,” Oikawa says attempting to wink despite shaking so hard.

“You Only Cum Twice,” Iwaizumi says in a strangled wheeze.

“From Russia With… With B-Balls?” Oikawa tries, and any hope Iwaizumi has ever had for being a mature person vanishes when that just makes him collapse on top of Oikawa, gasping into his shoulder with the most ridiculous laughter.

Eventually he rolls off of Oikawa and wipes his eyes, though it takes them another long while to stop laughing. “Oh gods,” Iwaizumi moans. “Oh, I shouldn’t have brought this up.”

“Well,” Oikawa says. “I’m glad you did. I look amazing in this dress. And feel how smooth my legs are!” He sticks his leg in Iwaizumi’s face, and Iwaizumi can’t manage to scowl at him, so he just takes the leg into his hands and kisses it gently.

Oikawa smiles at him softly.

“I like the makeup too,” he murmurs. “It’s really neat. Was it hard?”

“Oh, it’s not at all my first time wearing makeup, though it’s usually not so bold,” Oikawa says. “But if you like it I might wear some more obvious makeup around the house.”

“I love it,” Iwaizumi says. “You look incredible in everything.”

Oikawa blushes at that, drawing his leg down a little so he’s draped over Iwaizumi comfortably. “You look very dashing in that tuxedo, too,” he murmurs. “I wouldn’t mind if you had your way with me in that. Maybe you could be a Bond villain too sometime.”

“I guess we’ll just have to go through the full range of Bond scenarios, then, huh?” Iwaizumi grins.

“Oh? Will _you_ be my Bond girl sometime?” Oikawa grins.

Iwaizumi blushes. “I’d feel stupid in a dress. I’m not as pretty as you.”

“Hm,” Oikawa murmurs. “You do look more traditionally masculine, that’s true, but I think I could do you up. Find you a dress that’s more your style. If you want.”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi mutters.

“And I wouldn’t mind doing your makeup either,” Oikawa grins. “ _Or_ being your heroic James Bond.”

Iwaizumi’s brain is melting out of his ears at this point, he’s blushing so hard.

“But I like you as my heroic Bond most of all,” Oikawa says, kissing his cheek. “So dashing… and strong… and handsome…”

Iwaizumi stuffs his boyfriend’s face into the pillows and blows a raspberry into the back of his neck to stave off some of the embarrassment, and that rolls them into another laughing fit.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on [Tumblr](http://www.dgalerab.tumblr.com) to ask me why I do these things.


End file.
